Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Love is just a four letter word...

I found this really cool old video of Joan Baez playing this song with Earl Scruggs.

Here are the lyrics:

Seems like only yesterday
I left my mind behind
Down in the Gypsy Café
With a friend of a friend of mine
She sat with a baby heavy on her knee
Yet spoke of life most free from slavery
With eyes that showed no trace of misery
A phrase in connection first with she I heard
That love is just a four-letter word

Outside a rambling store-front window
Cats meowed 'til the break of day
Me, I kept my mouth shut,
To you I had no words to say
My experience was limited and underfed
You were talking while I hid
To the one who was the father of your kid
You probably didn't think I did, but I heard
You say that love is just a four-letter word

I said goodbye unnoticed
Pushed towards things in my own games
Drifting in and out of lifetimes
Unmentionable by name
After searching for my double, looking for
Complete evaporation to the core
Though I tried and failed at finding any door
I must have thought that there was nothing more absurd
Than that love is just a four-letter word

Though I never knew just what you meant
When you were speaking to your man
I could only think in terms of me
And now I understand
After waking enough times to think I see
The Holy Kiss that's supposed to last eternity
Blow up in smoke, its destiny
Falls on strangers, travels free
Yes, I know now, traps are only set by me
And I do not really need to be assured
That love is just a four-letter word

Strange it is to be beside you, many years the tables turned
You'd probably not believe me if told you all I've learned
And it is very very weird, indeed
To hear words like "forever" plead
so ships run through my mind I cannot cheat
it's like looking in a teacher's face complete
I can say nothing to you but repeat what I heard
That love is just a four-letter word.



Friday, May 7, 2010

Autobiography in Five Short Chapters

I logged on with the intention of writing about popular education & the Wayside Center. Instead, I find myself wanting to write about something rather personal. In a way, it is connected to Wayside since Wayside also intends to be a place for personal healing as well as popular education. I think that's what got me on this train of thought to begin with.

Many of my friends are aware of the trauma i endured as a child. I was physically, mentally and sexually abused by my mother's ex husband from 4 until I was 12.5. My mother left him the summer before I turned 13 because I finally point blank told her what he had been doing to me. I will always be so grateful for the fact that my mother believed me and left. I have heard too many survivor's tell the sad tale of their mother's accusing them of lying, blaming them & abandoning them further. Thankfully, that was not my situation.

Thus began my journey of healing, learning to re-wire my brain for love rather than fear, relearning how to connect with others in a healthy, wholesome way. Here I am, 19 years later, still continuing down this healing road. I have often thought of this process as an upward spiral. It is never ending, yet the emotions needing attention ebb & flow. Each time I ascend the spiral, I end up better for it despite the pain & hurt that has to be tended to a long the way. I currently find myself with a whole lot of issues resurfacing, which can sometimes lead to me feeling really frustrated and tired. If I am feeling particularly immature about it all, I throw my hands in the air and say "When will this EVER be OVER??". It is painful and tiresome to continue to grow, push myself beyond the bounds of comfort. In reality though, I wouldn't have it any other way. This cycle of pain & growth is what keeps me evolving, keeps me striving to be a better person to myself and a better parent to my children.

I will leave you all with a poem, the title of this blog, written by Portia Nelson. It has often brought me comfort when I am in a self-deprecating mood in regards to some misstep I have taken or succumbing to old self destructive patterns. I hope that someone out there may find some solace in it as well.

I

I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk
I fall in.
I am lost ... I am helpless.
It isn't my fault.
It takes me forever to find a way out.

II

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don't see it.
I fall in again.
I can't believe I am in the same place
but, it isn't my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.

III

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in ... it's a habit.
my eyes are open
I know where I am.
It is my fault.
I get out immediately.

IV

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.

V

I walk down another street.